Alter
by Ahoips
Summary: AU; Alfred F. Jones was born with the power to time travel, but he hadn't used his powers for years after he realized the consequences of his actions. He now leads a normal life, but this all changes when he meets a stranger that he must save. USUK
1. Chapter 1

**It's funny. This idea came to me in math class. My teacher isn't the most- Oh how do I say this- SANE person. And I think he was talking about robot elves and sexy parallelograms at the time, but he said one thing that gave birth to this baby. Time travel. He said that and suddenly this came out. The plot is odd and almost ridiculous, but I like the idea of a time traveler who ISN'T from the future. And I love Hetalia and yaoi so instead of making this an ACTUAL story that I came up with, I'm gonna jack characters from a show and make it a fanfic! :D yay for laziness and unoriginality! But no 'yay's for math class (btw this chapter is brought to you by Bohemian Rhapsody and Don't Stop Me Now...repeated like 6 times). Anyway, this is kinda OOC as far as Alfred goes. FYI :Whenever it goes in to first person it's Alfred commenting, though this story is in third person. Oh yeah and Becca? Don't read this. It's features a homosexual pairing. I know that's not exactly your thing. I'll write a story for a straight pairing one of these days just for you. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned hetalia do you honest-to-god think I would be writing fanfiction for it? **

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_I don't know what came over me. I risked my life for a guy I had never seen before. If you asked anyone else they would probably say he was a completely average guy. Normal face, average height, messy hair. He seemed like the type that most people would overlook. I'm not sure why he caught my attention. He didn't even look like the kind of guy that needed saving. I'm pretty tall for my age, so he looked pretty small to me, but he had this...look. This determined and sort of feisty look. He looked like he could take care of himself. But even if he couldn't, for all I know it was his time to die. In fact, I might have messed up fate by saving him. But I didn't think about all of that when I did it. All I could think about was how beautiful he looked right at that moment._

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Alfred F. Jones was having a pretty pleasant morning by his standards. It was completely routine and that was fine by him. Change-even for the better- always seemed to bring misfortune right along with it. He'd rather deal with his boring, average life than deal with an exciting one full of mishaps.

He woke up the way he did most mornings- hanging off the side of his small bed in his extremely messy room. The upper half of his body was dangling over his carpet, and he had to push himself up on his elbows to stop his face from connecting with the floor. His alarm clock was blasting some classic 80's station and he could hear the familiar beat of a song that had probably been made just before he was born. His palm connected with the off button of the alarm with a loud smack, and he quickly shook off the pain as he reached for his glasses.

They were just out of his reach and only his fingertips grazed the lens. He gathered enough strength to push himself forth just a little bit more, but unfortunately he lost his balance and the lower half of his body decided to join his upper half on the floor.

He groaned loudly and stayed in that position for a minute longer, breathing in the scent of old fast food wrappers and dirty clothes.

Deciding this wasn't the most pleasing scent, he pushed himself up from the floor and chanced a look at the clock. 8:30 AM. He had roughly 20 minutes to get ready for his dead-end job at the town's only comic book store and only 10 minutes to get there.

Groaning for the second time that morning, he stood up on weak knees and stumbled over to the mirror above his horribly battered dresser. He reached up to his face and pinched both cheeks-carefully examining his appearance.

His sandy-blond hair was ruffled and had several hairs sticking up in odd directions, one strand particularly so. His beloved cowlick that never seemed to go down.

Ignoring that piece of hair, he moved on to the rest of his body. His bright blue eyes skimmed over his shirtless body as he took a poke at his abs. Satisfied with the fact that they hadn't gotten mushy with his lack of exercise, he turned away from the mirror.

He bent down and picked up the first shirt he saw lying on the ground. It was a tee- shirt adorned with a large Union Jack. Honestly, he wasn't sure where he had gotten it, but it would prove to be rather ironic that he was wearing it that particular morning. He considered putting on a different pair of jeans, but he decided to instead wear the same ones he had worn to bed last night. It was unlikely anyone would notice and they were clean enough in his opinion.

He completed the look by placing his square-framed glasses on his face and throwing his signature bomber jacket over his shoulder. Giving one last look to his room, he slammed the door shut and ran to the kitchen of his shared apartment to look for food.

He found his caring Canadian brother had already anticipated him having to rush as he had set out a stack of delicious pancakes drenched in maple syrup on the counter. Next to the plate of flapjacks was a small yellow sticky note with a clear no-nonsense message.

_Eat the pancakes on your way out because if you're late I will personally kick your ass. Oh, and you're welcome for carrying you home last night after finding you passed out at a bar. ~Matthew._

Ah. How sweet of his adorable little passive-aggressive brother to leave a note. Alfred smiled at this, but then his smile quickly dropped as he recalled last nights events.

He barely remembered going to a bar to meet up with his friend Francis, but what he did recall was him falling unconscious on to the floor after his embarrassingly long rant about his lonely life and after he had downed his 10th drink. He wouldn't know since he hardly remembered these late-night escapades, but apparently he wasn't the happiest drunk. He had heard stories of some of his drunken shenanigans and they weren't exactly the sort of things you wanted to be remembered for. At least it usually took a few for him to do something embarrassing or pass out due to his size and high tolerance for alcohol.

Waving off last nights embarrassment, he stuffed a pancake in his mouth and took one with him as he ran out the door. Forgetting to lock the door on his way out, he skipped the stairs down to the parking lot two at a time as he tried in vain to swallow his pancakes quickly.

He finally reached the rather large parking lot and he looked around for his beat up old car (He had actually crashed it at least 3 times and had never really gotten it fixed after those accidents). He frowned as he noticed his car wasn't in the lot, but it wasn't as if he had been expecting anything else. His brother _always_ took the car without fail and this morning was no different.

Heaving a large sigh, he started in a jog towards his long walk to the job he was most certainly going to be late for.

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6 minutes in to his walk he had stopped jogging altogether and was now taking a leisurely stroll through the small streets of his town. He had already passed a few of his friends, whom he had been quick to ignore, and now he was just walking aimlessly through the streets on his way to work.

In his boredom he had started to make little games for himself. There had been a brief game of only counting red cars that passed by, but that had quickly gotten old. Instead he was now looking through the small trickling of people passing by, searching for any one interesting.

So far the most interesting person he had seen was a rather large man-almost a head taller than himself-wearing a long, flowing pink scarf and talking in to a cell phone in what appeared to be animated Russian.

He kept his watch for a few more minutes before his patience with the game grew thin. He had only seen one or two interesting people so far and even then they weren't extremely interesting. He was just about to give up and run over to the comic store to beg for forgiveness (for being late) from his brother when he felt a fat rain drop fall on to his the tip of his nose.

Alfred frowned slightly in irritation, but then his mood was raised as he had a thought.

_If it starts pouring out here I can just blame my tardiness on the rain! There's no way Mattie would be cruel enough to yell at me when I walk in soaking wet! Maybe I should even throw in a small pout for good measure..._

Satisfied with his new turn of luck he walked down the street even slower and held up his hands to catch the multiple water droplets now pouring out. He was so distracted with this activity that he barely noticed the shorter male rush past him while holding a now soaked newspaper over his head.

As it happened he _did _look up at the last moment and did notice the man, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat.

The man was of an average height- a few inches shorter than him- and he had his head ducked down so that Alfred could only see the top of his messy blond hair and the clothes he wore. He definitely wasn't dressed for the rain as he was only wearing a short sleeved shirt and slightly long tan slacks. He noticed the slight shiver that went through the other male as he was running off the curb and Alfred frowned. Alfred, for a reason he couldn't fathom, had the urge to offer the other man his jacket, but of course he knew that it would be more than a little awkward to do so with a stranger.

He continued to watch the man until he deemed his actions to be a little creepy, and he swiftly turned away from him- trying to still his beating heart. He was more than a little confused at this reaction, as the man wasn't particularly attractive, but he wasn't upset with the feeling. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Alfred rather liked the feeling that this man gave him, and he wasn't exactly happy to let this feeling go. He was ready to turn around again to chance another look at the man when he heard a sound he would hope he never heard again.

Loud and grating, he heard a car horn honk and tires skid only a few feet away from him. He could hear the people around him gasp as they watched the scene before them, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around now. Somehow he knew what was happening even though he couldn't see it.

He heard a strangled sort of yell and then a dull thump as the car made contact with the stranger's body. People around him began moving towards the accident and he could barely hear someone yelling for someone to call a doctor over the beating of his own heart.

Somehow, even then, he knew it was useless to call a doctor. He still hadn't seen the condition of the other person, or who it was, but he could just tell the other was dead. He knew this as much as he knew his name was Alfred and the sky was blue. This was simply fact and it tore his heart apart. What cruel twist of fate was this? To send him a person who had made his heart race and then take him away. It was something out of a tragedy, not his life.

He heard sirens in the distance and he tried to calm himself down. _Maybe, _he thought, _Just maybe it wasn't the man from earlier. Maybe it was some other poor unfortunate soul. _

This thought seemed to still his heart for the moment and he chanced a look around. He turned his body as slow as possible, trying to put off the inevitable, but it wasn't slow enough. The scene before him shattered whatever hope he had been keeping and left him broken.

He could see the man from only a few moments earlier, lying on the hard road and getting pelted with rain. His body was crumpled and in such an awkward position that Alfred was sure no living man could imitate it. His skin was ghostly white and it paled even more by the red liquid surrounding him.

The man was lying in a pool of his own dark blood, and there was a fresh trail running out between his lips. Alfred wanted to stop looking, but he couldn't. He found himself drawn towards the scene as he looked on in horror and disbelief. He stumbled towards the other man, pushing through the throng of people now surrounding him and just stared.

Even now, in death, he looked beautiful. And this is what broke Alfred's heart the most.

He hadn't gotten a good look at the man before, but now that he saw him up close he was stunned. Before, when he had thought the man average, he couldn't have been more off target. Now he could clearly see the man before him and he was stricken by the quiet sort of beauty that this man held.

His hair didn't look messy, but instead it now looked softly tousled as if on purpose. And now that he got a closer look at his body he noticed that the man didn't look small, but instead he could clearly see the man had small yet toned muscles that showed he worked out. As he inspected the man's clothes he saw that the shirt the other had been wearing had a rather large American flag on the front, and this saddened Alfred more. He somehow felt that the other male would be better suited wearing his Union Jack shirt rather than one featuring such patriotism to America.

Glancing over his body once again he noticed that the others eyes were half-open and he had to hold in a gasp that desperately wanted to escape when he saw the others eyes. They were such a bright forest green that they didn't appear human at all. The eyes seemed to give off a magical presence all on their own, and he swallowed thickly at their beauty.

He of course noticed other small things that seemed oddly cute and quite fitting on the man. He noticed how the stranger was a little too thin for someone in his adult years, yet the look wasn't bad. It made him look slightly more effeminate, but it wasn't a bad look at all. Alfred also noticed that his fingers were rough and calloused, no doubt caused by years of playing a string instrument. And the final thing he noticed, which he found himself slightly amused at, were his rather monstrous eyebrows. They ate up almost his entire forehead, yet Alfred didn't think they took away from his beauty at all. If anything they added a touch of personality that made his face appear softer and cuter.

All of these details put together made Alfred's heart clench painfully and he almost had to hold back tears that were forming for a man he didn't even know. He sat there, staring for a few moments before a rather dangerous idea started to form in his head. The idea that he would use his _powers_.

It was fighting his conscience and slowly starting to win. Alfred took a moment to look down at his hands and ponder how long it had been since he had used them in the way his mind was proposing.

Nearly three years it had been since he had even _thought _about using his powers and he had planned on keeping it that way for a lot longer. He knew using his powers usually brought along more bad than good, and he refrained from using them as much as possible. But somehow, in a matter of moments a complete stranger had broken this resolve and made him throw rational thoughts out the window.

He frowned slightly at the smaller man below him and then begrudgingly got up to put his plan in action.

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_Oh man..._His thoughts directed at the other male, _If only you knew how much trouble you are causing by dying. _He immediately banished that thought and frowned at his own selfishness. This wasn't this guy's fault at all. He was the one who had just died after all.

Alfred gave one more look towards the dead man, this time a reassuring grin, and he started jogging down the street to get enough momentum.

_Ok stranger. Sorry if you were planning on staying dead, but I've got other plans. _Alfred let himself smile at this thought and he increased his speed, heading straight for the brick wall at the end of the alley he was running in.

_It's now my job to save you. And I'm going to do it if it kills me._

And Alfred _**was **_going to do it. For you see...Alfred F. Jones wasn't a normal man. No, he was something more. He was born with the special ability to time travel, and that's just what he was about to do in order to save a stranger.

He finally increased his speed enough that he was now at a full run and he was mere feet away from the brick wall. He felt power surge within him and he could see white light all around him. This feeling was familiar and his heart beat rapidly in excitement. He gave one last grin before he disappeared in a flash of light right before he would have hit the wall in front of him.

A pleasant morning indeed.

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**:D SO! What do you think? Is it too wordy? Not wordy enough? Haha yes, the plot is really stupid, but damn I love time travelers and I figure that would be a cool superpower. Oh yeah and sorry for killing Arthur ;_; I have to have Alfred save him though, so he needed to die. If you couldn't tell, this is NOT a one-shot and there will be plenty more chapters. IDK how fast they will come out though, since I wrote this on a whim and I haven't planned any other chappies. Well look for more chapters of Alter :DD! TELL ME IF I MADE GRAMMATICAL ERRORS. I'M SERIOUS.  
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**Reviews would probably make me cry of happiness and then piss myself in pleasure. In that order. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I hate making excuses...so I won't. I just feel so bad though. I almost cried last night because I know it's been a while and people were (hopefully) waiting. How could I just leave Arthur dead like that? I'm cruel. I couldn't do anything about it then though. I was too busy partying until the morning at an anime convention. Don't you wish you were me. By the way first person is Arthur this time, and I also made him kind of...a *cough* whore. By the way, he's uke in this. He seems like he should be seme the way I'm writing him...oh well, I like him. He's saucy and he likes his mom! **

**Disclaimer: I'm not Japanese, nor have I ever been, so it's safe to assume that I don't own Hetalia. **

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Arthur Kirkland was having a rather terrible morning. As soon as his bright green eyes flickered open he could sense something looming. Something dark and dangerous, yet exciting was going to happen that day.

Ignoring the overwhelming feeling that he should stay home that day at all costs, he slowly pushed himself up from his bed and let out a groan at the stiff pain in his back. Only 23, and already his body was giving out like he was an old man.

He chanced a look at the mirror across from the bed and scowled at his reflection. In his own mind, there was nothing special about him. Nothing that could be viewed as beautiful or even remotely handsome. Of course this wasn't true, as he was a handsome man. Maybe not the most exotic of men, but not ugly.

Edging closer to the mirror his frown deepened as he saw deep bags running under his eyes from exhaustion. He'd just traveled from London to this small, American town last night, and it seemed like this stress was already taking a toll on his body.

Silently cursing jet lag, airplanes, and the 'great' country of America, he shuffled off towards the bathroom to get ready for the morning business meeting with his father.

His father was James Kirkland. An incredibly serious and boring man with an even more serious and boring job. Arthur wasn't exactly sure of the details of his father's work, but from what he could gather from the few times him and his father talked, it wasn't pleasant. His father lived in America, away from Arthur, his second wife, and older sons, in order to keep this job.

Apparently it was a high paying position in the American government, along with having something to do with scientific research as well as weaponry. That's as much information Arthur could get pertaining to the job, but he didn't care much anyway. What his dad did was certainly none of his business, nor anything like what he aspired to do.

At least that's what he thought before last Tuesday.

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_The world was spinning around me. I wasn't sure when my eyes had opened, but I wish they hadn't. Feeling my own heartbeat through my eyelids was enough to make me consider sleeping for a few more hours. That certainly would have been acceptable because I have no where to go; I have no one waiting for me. But something was nagging at my mind, and it was forcing me to get off the couch I was currently lazing on. _

_Pushing myself on to my elbows, I looked at my less-than-gentlemanly appearance in the mirror across from me. Hair mussed and sticking in all directions, eyes bloodshot with bags underneath them, skin paler than usual, clothes wrinkled and most likely ripped in some places, and I don't even want to mention what I smelled like at the time. Most likely hard alcohol and vomit. _

_After scrutinizing my haggard appearance, I stood up slowly and tried to push back the wave of nausea that overcame me to look at the room around me. The spinning had slowed down enough for me to take in the fact that I had absolutely no idea where I was. It appeared to be a small, one bedroom flat, probably owned by a man judging by the lack of feminine touch and the slight odor of sweat. _

_Wouldn't my parents be proud of their baby boy. Waking up in a strange _man's_ apartment with no recollection of the night before. _

_Oh well, not as if it's the _first _time. _

_Not in the mood for a rather awkward talk about the night before, I raced out of there, gathering my discarded jacket on the floor and what was left of my dignity. _

_Once the door was shut I started to get the nagging feeling again. It was the voices of my parents telling me how much of a failure I was. It started out as a quiet background noise, but now it had grown to an almost deafening roar, and it certainly wasn't helping with the hangover I was trying to nurse._

_I pressed the heel of my palms to my eyes and frowned. The voices in the head were only telling the truth, but it wasn't exactly the kind of thing a person wants to hear in the morning. Even a failure of a person like me. _

_It's not like I'm some uneducated druggie living on the streets, or a sleazy male prostitute. No, I'm Arthur Kirkland, a college graduate from Oxford and son of an important American government worker. I have all the opportunity in the world to be whatever I wanted to be, and that's why I'm a failure. I have so much potential, but I used none of it. _

_Instead of having a decent job, I sit around all day on my father's salary and the the occasional paycheck from an odd job to drink and have sex with both men and women. I'm selfish and exactly the kind of person I hate. Not that this changes anything. Hating myself and what I have become, and actually doing something about it are two completely different things. _

_With this in mind, I started the long trek back to my parent's lovely country home, which i was visiting, to sit around for the rest of the day like I normally do. Even I think I'm a loser. _

_A loser with a sore ass to boot. _

_After a long and particularly uncomfortably silent taxi ride back to my parent's home, I was not in the best mood. Not only was I in pain, but I wasn't exactly proud of whatever had happened the night before. It's not that a one night stand was unusual for me, quite the opposite, but for some reason I felt especially dirty. _

_I swallowed thickly and walked up to the door as if it was perfectly acceptable to walk in to the house at noon with disheveled clothes and unruly hair, and no recollection of the night before. _

_Upon opening the door, I was pleasantly surprised that no one came up to me asked of my whereabouts last night. Honestly, I couldn't tell them if they did ask. I slipped inside and quickly locked the door before running up the stairs for a quick shower. I attempted to, that is. _

_"Arthur, sweetie. What are you doing coming in so late? Where were you last night?" _

_Well shit. _

_I turned around slowly to meet the eyes of a short, middle-aged woman. Meet Anna Kirkland. Born and raised in Houston, Texas, she married James Kirkland at the age of 36 after the terribly tragic death of his wife of 13 years, Elizabeth Kirkland._

_She has this sort of unruly curly, brown hair and soft green eyes. Her figure is nice, but she's not exactly a size two super model, if you know what I mean. _

_She was as much a mother as my biological mother was, and probably more considering I was 6 at the time of my mother's death. Don't get me wrong, I loved Elizabeth, and she'll always be in my heart, but I was a lot closer to Anna. Even with her southern drawl and slightly annoying American ways. That didn't mean I was in the mood to talk to her though. _

_I let out an audible gulp and took a step closer to her. Really, I shouldn't be afraid of my own step-mother, but unfortunately I was. She was a tough bitch when she wanted to be. _

_"Yes mum? What is it?" I inwardly congratulated myself on using 'mum' when addressing her. She knows that I'm the only one of her step-sons that called her 'mother' and it always brought a little smile to her face when I did so. Though at that particular moment it didn't seem to work._

_"Arthur, hun. Why in God's name are you doing coming in at noon looking like you went through a goddamn tornado?" She gave me this long, hard look as if daring me to lie to her. Not having the guts to lie to her, I decided to go with the most truthful statement I could. _

_"I'm coming back from a long night of partying and fornicating with a male." I tried not to quiver at the look she gave me. It's not that she looked angry at me. She happened to be the only one in the family that knew I was bisexual and was ok with it. She didn't even blink at the fact that I had been having sex. The look she gave me wasn't a surprised one, but rather a disappointed one. _

_She walked over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder before letting it drop, as if it had been an accident. Anna had this weak smile on her face, and she used one hand to cup my cheek before placing a kiss there. I really wasn't sure what to think, as she doesn't often show these displays of affection, but I didn't do anything to push her back. If anything, I felt rather comforted by her and even leaned in to her touch a little. _

_The moment was soon gone however, as she took a step back from me and looked up in to my eyes. Yeah, when I said she was short I wasn't lying. I won't be the first to admit this, but I'm actually pretty short. I know, hard to believe, right? But Anna was at least a few inches shorter than me, making her look younger than she actually was. _

_I looked back down at her and frowned. Why did she move right when we were having a bonding moment? Did she want her son to have mommy issues? _

_I heard her sigh, and I was brought out of my thoughts as she straightened out a crease in the dress she was wearing and swiftly turned away from me. Thinking the strange exchange was all over, I spun around to shower when I heard her yelling behind her back. _

_"I'd change clothes hun because your father wants to talk to you. 5 minutes in his office. If you're not there he said he's not paying you squat for a month!" I widened my eyes at this and hurried up the stairs, muttering quiet curses as I ran up to my room. _

_5 minutes later and I was dressed in presentable clothing, and I'd gotten a comb through my hair to at least attempt to get it to lay flat. It didn't do much. _

_I all but sprinted up to my father's office, making sure to slow down right in front of the door and knock politely. I heard a gruff British voice yell, "Come in son." and I turned the glass knobs on the door before pushing the french doors open. _

_I was a bit confused at first because my father was nowhere to be seen, but then I noticed a small movement with my left eye. Turning towards my father's chair, I saw him turn around slowly towards me and give off a creepy smile. _

_"Hello son." I wasn't exactly sure what to think. That was a pretty lame entrance for him to make, even by his standards, so I just shuffled a bit and muttered a quick, "Hello father." before sitting down across from him. _

_Messy blond hair was pushed out of his eyes to reveal large unruly eyebrows as he stared at me. Meet James Kirkland. A taller, better version of yours truly. I'm not putting myself down either. He might not be the best father or person for that matter, but he was a well accomplished man with a wife and children. I wasn't much of anything. _

_He leaned back in his plush, leather chair as he stared down at me. I took his lead and leaned back a little, staring straight in to his bright, green eyes. _

_"Son, do you know why you're here?" He asked, suddenly leaning in towards me. Not sure what to say, I shook my head slowly and hoped that was an appropriate answer. Apparently it was because he nodded and suddenly stood up, coming to stand right behind me. I tried to swivel around and face him, but he placed a hand on my shoulder and kept me in place. _

_He leaned down closer to me, while ruffling my hair a bit. I sat as still as possible, wondering what the hell he was getting at by doing this, but the moment was soon over, and he was back to standing straight. _

_"Arthur, you're my youngest son. And I've always been proud of you. You do know that, right?" Highly doubting his statement, but not wanting to start an argument, I nodded again. He gave my shoulder a small, almost imperceptible squeeze, and he continued. "Yes, well while I am proud of you, I have been noticing you...haven't been doing much. You tend to go out and party all night, and sleep all day. You're not married, and I know you're gay, or bisexual, or whatever nonsense, but even a husband would be nice at this point. Not to mention you don't have a suitable job, and it looks bad on my part." _

_About to defend myself, I was interrupted by the clearing of his throat and another squeeze on the shoulder, this time harder. "Arthur, I do not mean that in a bad way. Your mother and I love you, but we're just prefer if you did something worthwhile with your life." He cleared his throat again, and I swallowed thickly. This wasn't sounding good. _

_"That's why your mum and I have decided it would be best if you worked with me in America." At the word America, I shot up and glared at him. To hell with manners. To hell with respect. _

_"I'm an adult, father, and I decide what I want to do with my life. And I absolutely refuse to go to America to work in the government. I'd rather die than move away from England." I knew I was being a little childish with the last bit, but really I hated America with a passion. The people there are annoying, and no one speaks proper English. Not to mention the fact that Americans just love English accents. I'd probably be pestered every day to say lines for girls hoping to bang a nice English gentlemen. Not my cuppa tea. And I like tea. _

_My father looked at me with this condescending sort of smirk, and I could see him staring down his nose at me. "Too bad Arthur because I happen to have the ability to cut you off. Would you like to live off the streets? Now, your mum would be cross with me, but she'd see my way eventually. So, which is it Arthur. Live comfortably in America, or become homeless trash on the side of the road?" _

_I widened my eyes and gaped a little at him. He was willing to have me die on the streets, so that I would work for him and fix his reputation? _

_The silence was long and drawn out, but after a few moments, he patted my cheek and smiled. "Knew you would see it my way, son. You're going to love it in America!" And before I could say anything, he ushered me out of his office and shut those damn french doors in my face. _

_I stood outside, staring through the glass at my father, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Spinning around, I came face to face with Anna again. _

_Scowling, I placed my hand on her's to try and shake it off, but instead I kept my hand there. Covering her hand with my own, I noticed she had a sad apologetic look in her eyes. I knew she wouldn't come out and apologize to me, but I could tell she wanted to. _

_We simply sat there for a few moments before I sighed heavily, and she slid her hand down my arm. "I know sweetie. I know." And with that, she left me standing there. Arthur Kirkland, proud English gentleman, soon to be proud American gentlemen. _

_Lovely. _

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Arthur was sitting in the bathroom in front of the mirror, brushing his hair as he recalled the tearful parting between himself and Anna. Arthur had gotten ready to leave the day before, and just as he was about to leave, his step-mother made her appearance.

She'd ran up to Arthur and thrown her arms around him, all but jumping straight in to his arms. He'd stumbled a bit, but managed to stable himself long enough to put his own arms hesitantly around Anna in a warm embrace. They'd stood like that for a few minutes, while his father grew impatient outside, before Arthur deemed it time to go.

He had taken a step forward to leave the house when Anna threw her arms back around her son and held him tightly to her. Arthur felt hot tears against the front of his shirt, and it made him a little teary-eyed himself. Yes, he lived in a different house from his parents, but it wasn't very far from them. Now with him moving to America with his father, Anna was going to be alone in the house for months to come.

Anna had reached out a hand and pulled it through Arthur's hair before burying her face further in to his chest and squeezing the life out of him. Starting to feel a little uncomfortable, Arthur gently pried her off of him and childishly pressed a kiss to her cheek. She returned the favor, and muttered her last goodbye as she saw her son walk out the door to her husband's waiting car.

Arthur splashed a bit of water in his eyes and checked the time again. Cursing loudly as he realized he had read the time wrong when he had woken up, he rushed out of the bathroom and in to the large closet in his hotel room. Shuffling frantically through the clothes, he decided _fuck it _and he pulled the first shirt and pair of pants he could get a hold of.

Grimacing at the large American flag printed on his shirt coupled with the slightly too-long tan slacks, he considered changing, but one more glance at the clock wiped those thoughts out of his mind. He stumbled a bit as he slipped the shirt over his head, and fell against the door when he pulled the slacks over his boxers.

Taking a moment to grab only the most essential of items, Arthur rushed out the door of his hotel room with a loud bang. He skipped the stairs two at a time, and thankfully landed down in the lobby without killing himself. He took one glance around the large hotel lobby he was in before settling his eyes on the glass doors in front of the hotel.

Shit.

Arthur groaned as he noticed large, fat rain drops were falling from the sky at a rapid pace. He cursed his lack of a jacket and an umbrella, as he quickly looked for some sort of protection from the rain.

Smiling at a conveniently placed stack of free newspapers, he took a few an lifted them over his head. Arthur knew they wouldn't block much of the rain, but it was something. He braced himself for the harsh weather, and then dashed out of the hotel doors quickly, not once looking back.

He was unaware of the coming danger, and unaware of the fact that his life was about to change forever.

* * *

Matthew was having an enjoyable morning. After having to carry Alfred, who wasn't the lightest person, all the way home last night, he'd crashed on the the closest object to the door. This just so happened to be the couch.

He'd woken up to a terrible backache and a bit of a hangover from the few beers he'd had the night before. He should really work on his alcohol tolerance. Or his ability to say no to going out with his brother.

That particular morning, he was feeling a little mean, so he decided to leave Alfred behind and not wake him up at the appropriate time. He deserved it for relying too much on his brother.

Of course, said brother, happened to be a huge pushover and ended up making Alfred a stack of pancakes and writing a note. Not exactly the stern message he wanted to send, but oh well. He'd just kick his ass when Alfred came in late. At least then he could get some kind of pleasure out of the situation.

But, other than taking care of his incompetent twin, Matthew was having a great morning. He'd gotten coffee with extra maple syrup on the way to work, and he'd been able to make pancakes. It also helped that he'd had no interruption from any customers in the past 30 minutes, so he was able to just sit back, relax, and-

_Rip..._

Matthew suddenly felt something strange in the air. It was as if everything had slowed down except for him. Suddenly the colors around him were muted, yet the objects themselves were super clear. Sound was deeper, but it sounded clogged, like he was underwater. Matthew tried to stand up, but found himself unable to as he felt the Earth shake a little underneath him. He gripped the edge of the table he was leaning against, and fought off the urge to panic.

_I'm sure everything is fine. I'm sure this is just an earthquake. This definitely isn't what I think it is. He hasn't done _this _since three years ago. There's no way that- _

Matthew's thoughts were interrupted as he felt a strong headache come on, forcing his eyes closed, and making him grip the sides of his head in an effort to stop the pain. It was like his head was slowly being ripped apart, atom by atom, and it was enough to make him want to vomit.

About to just give in and get sick all over the floor, the pain suddenly stopped and Matthew fell down at the sudden change in atmosphere.

Everything around him was completely back to normal with no trace of the previous events. His head no longer ached painfully, and he no longer felt the need to empty his stomach. Taking a quick look around, he also noticed that everything was moving at the normal speed and colors had returned back to their original hue.

Shakily standing up, Matthew stared outside in shock. He knew this feeling. He knew what he had just experience was _not _an earthquake or a headache. He knew exactly what was going on.

Alfred had just used his powers.

"Fucking shit."

* * *

There was a flash of light in the alley Alfred had jumped in, and exactly one second later, Alfred arrived back in the alley by a drop a few feet above the ground.

Alfred landed on his back and groaned lightly. It'd been a long time since he'd time traveled, and he'd forgotten that when he did, he often fell from high places. Rubbing his sore back, Alfred stood up and glanced at his wristwatch.

He was unable to contain the grin that overcame him as he noticed the time. It was exactly 30 seconds before the stranger was going to get hit by the car. It seems Alfred hadn't lost his touch after all.

Alfred allowed himself a few more seconds of silently congratulating himself when he realized something. 30 seconds. He only had 30 seconds.

Cursing loudly, Alfred ran out of the alley quickly. He knocked over a few garbage bins on the way out, but it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that stranger. He had to get to him in time.

He searched madly for the mop of blond hair that had enchanted him before, but he could barely make out anyone in all the rain.

**15 seconds.**

Alfred ran forward to the curb, still searching for the stranger from before, while periodically glancing at his clock with worry.

**10 seconds.**

Suddenly, a thought came to him, and Alfred stood in the same spot he'd stood before. Any second now..

**5 seconds.**

And then Alfred noticed him. The same stranger from before ran by him quickly, too fast for Alfred to pull on him and stop him. Looks like he'd need to do a rather dramatic rescue.

**3 seconds.**

Alfred wasted no time in running out in to the street. He could already see the car coming towards the man, barreling through without any care for the man right in front of it.

Feeling a burst of energy, Alfred pushed forward until he was right next to the stranger. He had stopped in the middle of the road for a second, his eyes wide as he saw the lights coming at him. For some reason, he wasn't moving at all, but Alfred saw this as a blessing. It made it easier for him to push him out of the way.

**1 second.**

Realizing he didn't have enough to push the man out of the way and jump out of harm's way himself, Alfred did the only thing he could do.

He threw his arms forward, wrapping around the smaller man, and pushed them both forward and out of the way of the car.

Alfred couldn't feel the car rushing behind him. He couldn't see the crowd starting to form around him, or hear the concerned whispers. All he could see was this stranger he was holding.

Alfred was on top of him, still holding the smaller man in his arms. He'd been smart enough to put an arm behind the stranger's head so that he didn't get hurt hitting his head on the sidewalk, and he could feel a bruise forming where he was hit. It was worth it.

The stranger looked up at Alfred with wide green eyes. His mouth was parted slightly, and he was breathing heavily on to Alfred, fogging up his glasses with each breath. His arms were hanging listlessly by his sides, but his hands were shaking slightly against the pavement.

Slowly, he moved his face a fraction of an inch, and his nose brushed up against Alfred's. Alfred held in his automatic reaction-to gasp- and instead took a sharp breath in.

_This was worth it, _Alfred thought. _He was worth it. _

_

* * *

_

**YES! Alfred saved Arthur! Can you believe it? He's not dead! But Matthew seems pretty pissed at Alfred...wonder what's going to happen. Is Arthur going to fall in love at first sight with Alfred? Is Matthew going to murder Alfred for time traveling? Will we find out what Mr. Kirkland's job has to do with this story? **

**Find out next time! :D **

**Reviews make me barf rainbows. True story. **


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